


Dinner and Dessert

by Viridian5



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-01-25
Updated: 1999-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-02 09:12:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Alex get kinky.  (I <i>know</i>...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner and Dessert

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for Alicia, who became the other winner of my nick-fixx mini-contest by providing the name of the M/K fic that was the source of the snippet Microsoft Word had spliced into my _Once a Thief_ story, "Working Together." Alicia asked for Truth or Dare, bondage, a good port "drizzled over a body and licked off," uniforms, and "a stupid-ass haircut rubbing against inner thighs."
> 
> Hail to Karen, beta and information source on matters of great port! (Everyone can groan now.) She tried to educate non-alcoholic me on the ways of wines, but any mistakes left are completely mine.
> 
> As a PWP, this story has no nutritive value whatsoever. Yes, this _is_ a Manic!Viridian production; why do you ask?

Mulder showed up at the hotel room on time for once. As unhappy as being off the X-Files made him, at least it had improved his punctuality. He looked at the candlelit dinner with some amusement. "Wendy's, Alex? I never should have let you find out how little I'm willing to put out for."

Alex lounged back into the chair. "There's a method to my madness. I have your double bacon cheeseburger, just the way you like it."

Mulder looked at the chilled soda cans on the table. "It would have been cheaper if you bought the value meal."

"Yeah, but those cups disintegrate the longer you have your drink in them. I hate how that affects the taste."

Mulder shrugged. "You're not going to want to get near my mouth after I eat this."

"Are you familiar with Russian food at all, Mulder?"

"Never mind. Pass me a can of Coke." Mulder toed off his shoes and sat down.

They relished their greasy meal in a companionable silence broken only once or twice when Mulder told Alex to stop stealing his fries. After he finished his food, Mulder asked, "What did you have in mind, Alex?"

"Maybe a game of Truth or Dare."

"Really." Mulder's voice couldn't get any drier.

Alex kept his face blank. "And I'll start. Truth or dare, Mulder?"

"Dare."

Alex stared at him. "Dare? You never start with 'dare.'"

Mulder smiled. "You've had this crazy look in your eyes all night. I think you have something in mind for a dare, and I'm dying to know what it is."

"Crazy look?" Alex smiled. "You called 'dare' and have to do anything I ask now, Mulder."

Mulder smiled back, and looked almost as smug as Alex did. "I know that."

Alex put a folded pile of clothes on the table. "First, change into these. In front of me."

Mulder went through them: the pants, ugly shirt, apron, visor... nametag. "You're even kinkier than I thought."

"I love to exceed expectations. Strip."

Mulder casually but slowly undressed. He didn't make a show of it, but he did linger over each step. It took him three minutes to get his tie off. His fingers idled a little at each button on his shirt. He pulled the zipper on his pants down at a leisurely pace. He let the shirt and pants slide off him, then pulled his undershirt and socks off.

"The boxers too."

"Does the uniform come with underwear too? Not that I mind either way, but I'm curious."

"No, this is one night only."

Mulder pulled the boxers off to reveal a raging erection. He pulled the stiff, new dark blue pants up to his hips, letting his hard cock protrude from the open fly.

Alex appreciated the framing effect, but said, "Be careful with the teeth."

Mulder laughed. "Even if I hadn't been doing this for years, I just saw _There's Something About Mary_."

"Define 'this.'"

Mulder stuck out his tongue and put the equally stiff shirt on. It still had the folds creased in it and was a truly ugly bit of work, featuring thin vertical stripes of dark red, midnight blue, azure, white, and taupe. Alex wondered if fast food restaurateurs were obligated by law to have their uniforms designed by people who had too much enthusiasm and too little taste.

Once Mulder had it buttoned, Alex said, "Now tuck it all into the pants, and I mean 'all.' I want to undress you."

"Bossy." But Mulder complied. He had some trouble zipping the pants, and his erection tented the fabric. "You can't believe how much this shirt is chafing my nipples. Not to mention what the pants are doing to my cock." He fidgeted a bit more with a look of bliss on his face. The slut.

Alex licked his lips. "I'll find out soon."

The dark blue apron, while clean, still retained the scent of grease and had the softness of an item of clothing washed over and over. Mulder put it on the wrong way around so he could knot the ties before he turned it around the right way and slipped his head through the top, disheveling his spiky hair. "Does it scare you that I know how to do this?"

"The day you stop scaring me is the day I lose interest. Don't forget the visor."

"Yes, sir." Mulder smoothed down his hair and put the dark blue visor on. He straightened the nametag on his apron. It just said, "Brad." Mulder asked, "May I take your order? Do you want it for here or to go?"

"I'll take it whatever way I can get it."

"You realize I now have frightening thoughts of you stalking fast food workers."

Alex stood in front of Mulder. "And what do I do with them?"

"You wait until the shift is over for the night. Then you grab them--all redolent of grease, meat, condiments, and sweat--on their way out and put them in your car. Maybe you threaten them a little. You take them to wherever you're staying and tie them down to your bed."

Alex tripped Mulder down onto the bed. Mulder wiggled his way on his back up to the pillow, with his former partner in pursuit, and only struggled a little as he was cuffed to the headboard. He wanted to provide some entertainment.

Smiling, Alex knelt between Mulder's spread legs and asked, "Then what?"

"I don't think most of them are as hard as I am at this point."

Alex stroked the hard bulge in front of him and purred at Mulder's groan. "Probably true. I think I'll depart from the script now, because I know how much you love surprises." He pulled out a knife and cut the apron ties, then pulled it up so Mulder couldn't see.

"Alex, what the hell are you--"

Alex smiled down at Mulder's head under the dark blue fabric and the trembling stomach that must have been bared during the wiggling. "Trust me."

"Oh, sure," was the fabric-muffled reply.

"Your lack of faith disappoints me."

Alex sliced the buttons off the shirt and rubbed the fabric against Mulder's nipples, enjoying the way his victim thrashed under the assault. He unfastened the pants and kissed the dripping cock that sprang out to greet him. Then he left it alone for a while to rub his short, spiky hair against Mulder's bare thighs, knowing full well what kind of effect that had, before moving back up to brush its crisp ends against the stiff cock waiting for him, to Mulder's very vocal approval. //Not complaining about my "stupid ass haircut" now, are we?// He enjoyed the writhing and groaning for a while before replacing the touch of his hair with his mouth. When he swirled his tongue around the head, Mulder moaned something that might have been "Alex." Then he got up off the bed to get the next part of his surprise.

"Alex, where the hell are you going?"

The outrage he heard made him giggle. "Be right back."

First, Alex set the condoms and slick on the bed within easy reach. Then he removed the bottle of vintage port--a 1937 old tawny he'd taken as a souvenir from his last job--and a wet cloth from the cold tap water sitting in the sink and returned to bed. He had to clamp the frigid bottle between his legs so he could open it. //It's always good when you can apply talents to other fields.// Since the cork on the older wines became more brittle over time, tending to disintegrate and fall into the bottle when removed, Alex had to apply special measures. Mulder hadn't noticed the Athena Pocket Stove, or the opener heating up within it.

Alex thought of all the things that needed to be done to do this right... He put the cold bottle in Mulder's hands. "Hold this tight."

"Alex, what the hell are you doing?" Mulder asked but still immediately and obediently clutched it. He still couldn't see, because his head remained covered despite all his attempts to wiggle the apron off.

"You'll see. Well, actually you won't see."

Alex smirked at Mulder's growl and the sight of apron-covered arms exposed only at the wrists and hands. His handcuffs gleamed in the light. The sight of those seemingly disembodied hands holding the bottle had an aesthetic value he took a moment to appreciate.

"I'm going to kill you, Alex, as slowly and painfully as I can manage."

"Sure, sure. Just keep a grip on the bottle."

Alex fit the heated opener, also taken from his last job, to the bottle neck and let it get really hot before he applied the chilly wet cloth. Then he broke off the top of the bottle and took it away from Mulder's hands.

"Aaaaleeeeeeex..."

Alex grinned at the annoyance and raw need in Mulder's voice. "Soon. Patience is a virtue."

"'Patience' isn't the virtue you stay with me for."

"This will be worth it." As Alex returned to his previous position, he carefully maintained his balance; he didn't want to spill any before he was ready.

While Mulder muttered threats, Alex took the time to appreciate the wine's heady bouquet. It would be a crime not to fully relish the whole experience. Smiling all the while, he started to drizzle cold port onto Mulder's bare belly. Mulder shrieked and cursed, branching out into British curse words when he felt he'd worn out the American ones. Alex watched the golden liquid make shining trails along Mulder's stomach, pool in his navel, and flow down his balls and lower...

Alex had taken the port fully knowing he'd soon have a proper receptacle to drink from.

He followed the streams of wine with his tongue, appreciating the warm tingle and complicated flavors of caramel, hazelnuts, and butterscotch mixed with the slight salt of Mulder's skin. He lapped from the full navel before licking his way all the way down. Mulder undulated and babbled nonsense as Alex rimmed him.

Alex followed one particularly strong tongue thrust with, "Turn over, Mulder."

Mulder did, immediately, crossing the chain of his cuffs and giving him less leeway to move. Alex admired the tight, bare ass wiggling in invitation before him. Mulder looked over his shoulder at Alex with a beautiful flush in his face and an all- devouring hunger in his eyes.

"Please, Alex..."

Alex never could resist the sound and sight of Mulder begging for him. He prepared himself as quickly as he could--which wasn't very, as the sight of Mulder grinding his cock against the bed in frenzied impatience attested--then thrust in. Being buried to the hilt in this man never lost its illicit thrill, so he waited a moment in appreciation before he started to stroke Mulder with his cock and his hand at once. The hot, hard flesh in his moving fist and the velvet of his lover's ass enclosing him felt like home.

Mulder whimpered, moaned, and pleaded for more. He moved to help plant each thrust deeper. He wanted it so much and so deeply. It still shocked and pleased Alex that he could reduce the man to this. He swore he could feel the orgasm gathering in the spine beneath him before it burst from the cock trembling in his grasp. He screamed out his own completion moments later.

They nestled in the sticky wreckage of the bedding, while Alex tried to track down his brain. He knew it was in there somewhere.

Mulder took a few, deep breaths before he gasped, "Truth or dare, Alex?" He started to grin.

"Mulder, you have to be kidding me..."

### End


End file.
